The Right Set Of Arms
by Whithallen
Summary: What if, in New Moon, Bella and Jacob didn't become as close as they had? What if Bella had took her fateful jump alone? What if Edward never learned of it? What if Jasper rescued her instead? Rated T just to be safe, but is subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

My first Twilight fic ever =) I, of course, do not own any of the characters in this book - they belong to the lovely Stephenie Meyer. Critiques are welcome. Enjoy!

* * *

_His tortured face only inches from mine, his words slurred together as he spoke almost too quickly for me to comprehend his words. "There's another, Bella. And I cannot stay here, I cannot chose between you; I'm sorry I've hurt you. I'd drag myself across a bed of razors before ever betraying either of you. I cannot stay here. I'm sorry," Edward said in a tortured voice. I could feel my throat constricting, hotness welling up behind my eyes. This could not be happening._

_"It's Alice, isn't it?" I asked quietly, betraying no emotion. My monotony disturbed him, I could see on his face. I knew his face better than the back of my own hand, could read it like a book._

_"Yes…and Jasper, too. I cannot allow us to remain around you, not when our very presence endangers your life," he choked. "We're leaving, all of us. This has divided our family like nothing else, and it's all my fault; we cannot stay here. I…I cannot prolong this any longer. Goodbye, my love. Goodbye, my dearest Bella," he murmured, his lips locking with mine. He kissed me feverishly, and I him; this was my last chance, my last taste of perfection. I could not waste it. _

_All too soon, he pulled away. Sobs racked his body, and then suddenly, he was gone. All that remained of him were those words, ringing through the stillness. I collapsed, feeling the muddy water of the ground soak through my clothes, saturate my hair. I didn't care. I felt nothing; it was as though my insides had vanished. The emptiness terrified me, and I embraced my fear – it was the only real thing I had left to cling to. Everything else was gone, surreal. It couldn't exist without him. I couldn't exist without him. But my fear could. My terror. My hurt. I clung to that, as though it would keep me alive. But what was the point of living? I didn't know, I felt a primal urge to survive overriding all thought processes. My hurt was all I knew now, all that connected me to the Earth. Nothing could ever chase it away._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2, and the story officially begins. As ever, I own nothing but the writing itself. Critiques are welcome. Enjoy!

* * *

One step. Inhale. Another step. Exhale.

The edge of the cliff crept ever nearer to me as I walked slowly towards it, every nerve in my body tensed, waiting to hear his velvety voice again. I slowly moved my left foot forward, and gave a wild gasp – for everything about him was like air to me; his voice, his face, his body; I needed to breathe him in – when I heard his voice.

"Bella!" he snapped, "stop being foolish. Come down right now!"

I ignored him, taking another step. Shivers crawled over my skin as the angel growled at me.

I stood on the very edge of the cliff now. My heart pounded, and I wondered if – attuned to the sound as he was – he would hear me, wherever he was. I stared into the murky, violent waves below me, my vision partially obscured by my wind tossed hair. I shuffled forward another step and spread my arms, my eyes closed.

"Bella!" Edward's voice pleaded. The sound was like an antidote to the poison, the pain that filled my heart. I had to hear it, just one more time…

I raised myself on tiptoes, teetered for a moment, and then, a rush of adrenaline coursing through me, fell forward in almost slow motion.

"BELLA! NO!" he cried. My stomach flipped as he said my name, and the world returned to normal speed.

My scream, high and piercing, echoed off the cliffs of La Push. The wind tore at my clothes, my hair, cold enough to send gooseflesh crawling over my skin, but so harsh that it burned every inch of exposed skin as I plummeted towards the waves below. Everything moved too quickly, and yet I felt suspended in time, clearly able to see every detail around me. Too late, I took in the sharp edges of the rocks along the cliff…and prayed.

I hit the churning water face first with a smack so painful that I couldn't help but scream, inhaling a mouthful of water in the process. My lungs burned as the ice cold waves pulled me under, tossing me around until I couldn't tell which way was up. A small part of my brain registered relief. At least I hadn't hit the rocks.

The thought was driven quickly from my mind as blood rushed to my head, my oxygen starved brain swinging into panic mode. I frantically listened for the voice of my guardian angel, but I heard only the roaring of water in my ears. My heart fluttered against my ribs like the wings of a hummingbird against the bars of its cage, fighting tooth and nail for freedom.

An eye suddenly opened up, a peaceful, clear haven around which panic continued to rage. At least my suffering would end. At least I wouldn't have to miss him any more. I would feel no agony once my sluggishly beating heart was silenced. Blackness crawled across my vision, and I let my head fall back, welcoming death's warm embrace.

And yet the embrace was not warm at all. I could feel a cold set of arms wrap around my waist, hard as the rocks I had so nearly avoided braining myself on. The arms began to pull me upwards, towards a light. The light…I was nearly there. My suffering would end soon.

Then, suddenly, cold air was slapping against my face. I couldn't help myself; I took a gasping breath, my waterlogged lungs protesting, my raw throat burning. I choked, but I couldn't stop myself; I needed the pure life that flooded my lungs. Dimly, I was aware of a strange sensation, almost as if I were flying. Was I dead? Death shouldn't be so uncomfortable. But my agony was somehow diminished…The arms wound around me were both secure and gentle. Weakly, I gripped one of them – around the wrist, I thought. It was bulkier than _his _had been, but just as cold, just as smooth. I instinctively pressed myself further into their embrace, but their hold was loosening. I could feel the damp, gritty sand against my back. A set of hands was flying over my face, so fast that I couldn't follow their progress, and so light that I couldn't be so sure they were even there.

"No," I choked, without thinking. "Don't…don't leave me…" I coughed out a mouthful of water, my salt encrusted eyes stinging as I tried to open them, to see whose arms had saved me.

A voice, familiar and soothing, spoke over the roar of the wind and waves. I knew it, and yet I could not place it, but I clung to it like a lifeline. It sent the same tremors over my skin as _his _had, only somehow more intense. It sounded _right _to my ears. All other needs vanished as the voice reached my ears; somehow, I thought that nothing would be whole, would be right again until I heard the sound once more.

"Shh, Bella, I'm here," the voice crooned. Beneath its soothing tenor, I could hear the raw panic. Regardless, it seemed to lift a great weight off my chest. I felt alive again. Human. It was as though the past months had been a nightmare.

I spluttered, struggling for air, and felt the same hands compressing my chest. My throat burned as I coughed more water from my lungs, and then drew a great, gasping breath, this time without choking. The rush of air to my lungs felt even better than the first. Again I marveled at how _whole _I felt. I raised my fists to my eyes and kneaded the stinging salt from them. Cold hands stopped mine, pulling them gently away from my face. I felt a feather light touch under my eyes, wiping them clean. I struggled to open them, both eager and afraid to see to whom I owed my life.

My vision was blurry at first, and I blinked several times until it cleared. He was standing far away, his profile tensed, fighting against some urge, I guessed. The face I stared into was beautiful, godlike. There was something feline about it, in the shape of the eyes and the curve of the jaw. Longish honey blond hair fell over his pale forehead into black eyes in which I could see but a few butterscotch flecks. His lips were thin, stretching across his face. His face was heart shaped, his wide forehead tapering into a narrow chin. His high cheekbones cut across his face, accenting his deep-set eyes.

I felt a peculiar sense of release as I stared into that face, as if simply by its appearance it drove away every fear and nightmare I had. I was so shocked I could only muster enough focus to murmur one word.

"Jasper," I whispered, feeling my dry lips crack as they spread into a wide smile. I suddenly ached to hear his answer in the clear, deep voice. I needed to be sure that he was real, that he wasn't some delusion that cruel fate had set up to destroy me.

His face softened, his eyes taking on a tender look that I had never seen in them before. It seemed to soften the hard, chiseled lines of his face, giving it a warmth I had never seen before.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry…for everything," he said in a battered voice. I wanted to grasp his hand, reassure him, but I knew it would make being in my presence all the more difficult. I hadn't realized how much I had missed all of the Cullens. I had yearned for their return, of course, but only in connection with Edward's. I most certainly hadn't expected to be so relieved, so glad, to see Jasper, whom I had never had much to do with. I didn't want him to be upset. He didn't need to suffer over something that was entirely my fault. But before I could reassure him, he spoke again. "Bella, you're okay. Oh, thank the Lord you're okay. It's my fault, all my fault," he said in a hard voice, pressing his forehead into a large, white hand.

"No, Jasper," I whispered hoarsely, my raw throat aching. "It's not your fault, not at all." He shook his head, squeezing his eyes tightly together. I hated to see him so upset. Though I had hardly knew him at all, he had been there for me when James had began his hunt, and I knew I owed him so much more than the remorse he felt now.

He looked like he hadn't even registered what I said. I tried again. "Jasper," I said gently, but with conviction. "If not for you, Jasper, I'd be dead right now. So stop beating yourself up." I wasn't sure if it would make things worse to touch him, so I simply opened the gates of my mind and let him experience what I was feeling.

Gratitude flooded my heart, my brain. I owed him much, much more than my life. I owed him everything I had; it was as though he was the sunrise that drove away my nightmares, pure and simple and good. It was as though he'd never left, as though they'd never left. Though he had lost control around me once before, I could not help but trust him now, even when his eyes were dark. I knew I didn't want him to go. My newly mended heart still felt fragile, and I wasn't sure if it could take him leaving. Not yet.

I knew of Jasper's surprise as he felt the pure, unbridled strength of my emotion. His eyes found mine, gazing into them with surprise. I gazed back, unable to tear my eyes away.

"You're safe, Bella," he murmured, "I won't leave you now."

I knew he knew how much this meant to me. "Thank you, Jasper," I said, my voice fervent, quiet. Embarrassingly, tears began to flow down my face, and suddenly I was sobbing into my hands. I felt a wave of serenity was over me, enveloping me, chasing away my fears and bewilderment. I could sense his cold hand mere inches from my face, but then the sensation of his nearness faded.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I wish I could…could do something more for you," he said. The grief was back in his voice.

His calming effect had taken over me enough that, while tears still flooded my cheeks, my body was no longer racked with sobs. I knew, though, that once he – I choked back another round of tears – left, they would return full force. I fought against my own misery long enough to soothe his. I owed him that.

"It's fine, Jasper," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes. "I understand." I hoped he could feel that – feel that I was far from offended.

For what felt like hours, we simply sat on the beach, refusing to look at each other, unable to touch each other. Jasper merely allowed his soothing aura to wash over me, easing the pain of one thousand lashes across my heart. I only wished I could do more for him.

The winds picked up then, and I felt the full force of my dive into the chilly waters. Every muscle in my body ached, and shivers tore through my body, down my spine and across my skin, My teeth chattered together so hard I feared for my tongue.

"Bella?" he asked, alarmed.

"J-j-j-u-s-s-st c-c-c-old-d," I answered, unable to form anything more coherent after that. I felt something settle over my shoulders, and saw his black winter jacket, I slid it on, hardly able to get my arms through the sleeves. Jasper knelt in front of me, and I could see his jaw was tensed. His eyes were careful, measuring his thirst.

Finally, he asked, "Bella, do you trust me?"

I merely nodded, beyond words. Suddenly I was swept off my feet, and overcome by the same flying sensation as before. I caught myself before I gasped, and made myself immobile in Jasper's arms. I could only guess how hard this was for him. He ran faster than Edward ever had with me, and though my stomach flipped at each sharp turn.

Within a minute, I could see the towering white shape of the Cullen's house, and the meadow in which it stood. I couldn't help but cringe, and felt Jasper's body tense. Immediately regretful, I made myself stone again, but my insides were churning, bracing themselves to vanish again. Fear held me in its grasp; what if Jasper's return was not enough to mend me, at least partially? What if coming back here set me right back to the beginning?  
He must have felt my fear, and sent extra waves of calm washing over me. Within a moment he had whisked me through the doors and up the stairs. I felt my feet meet solid ground and wobbled for a moment before his hand caught my arm. Within the same second, he had placed my hands against some stable surface against which to brace myself, and let go. I glanced shyly up at him to see him flit across the room, his jaw clenched but his eyes calm, almost triumphant. Before I could speak, his low voice was echoing through the room, which I recognized as the vast bathroom.

"You should take a hot bath, Bella. You're cold, much too cold," he worried. I was surprised at the emotion in his voice – usually he was so guarded around me, not just physically but emotionally. I would have disagreed out of my usual martyrdom, but I could almost feel my lips turning blue. Beyond words, I nodded. Jasper looked so relieved it bordered on surprise, and I couldn't help but give a short laugh. He felt my amusement and allowed himself a small smile before continuing, "I'll get you some of Esme's clothes to change into; I'll leave them on the door handle for you, and then I'll get you a hot chocolate. I don't want you to get hypothermia," he said, and once more I was stunned by the tenderness in his expression. Before I could object or form a question, he was gone, the door shut behind him.

I knew he had a point, so I ran myself a hot bath. My insides were already warming; being back in this house, with one of the Cullens (even if it was the Cullen I knew least about, and barely interacted with) was better therapy than anything I could have imagined. I still ached for _him_, but part of the void had been filled. I knew that things would be a little uncomfortable, especially as I assumed that Jasper was alone here (I had to be honest; he was the last person I'd expect to be sent to rescue me) and that he and I had never exactly said much to each other. I had to admit, though, that the softened look in his eyes made me think that getting along with him wouldn't be as hard as I'd always thought it would.


	3. Chapter 3

So sorry about not updating, guys. I'm horrible for procrastinating or forgetting projects =/ here's another chapter, albeit a short one:

* * *

I would have dozed off as I lay in the hot water, letting the warmth seep into my very bones, but I knew Jasper would worry if I spent too much time in the tub. Once I was sufficiently warmed, I climbed carefully out of the bath – realizing that my coordination would be even worse in my achy, tired state – and dressed in the clothes Jasper had hung on the doorknob. He'd left a pair of Esme's deep blue cotton pajamas, which I pulled on gratefully. I left my wet clothes in the bathtub and wandered downstairs.

"Jasper?" I called softly, knowing he would hear me wherever he was.

"I'm in here, Bella." His voice came from the kitchen, deep and quiet. I gravitated towards it without having to think about it. It was good to hear the crystalline, clear voices of the Cullens again.

I walked into the room slowly, perhaps with a little trepidation. Though I certainly didn't blame Jasper for my catastrophic birthday party, I knew that my presence caused him a good deal more stress than it did the other Cullens. He was leaning against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, staring at the ground. He glanced up at my approach, his face concerned.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, walking to meet me in the middle of the room, my hot chocolate in hand. He stopped and handed it to me when we were an arm's length apart, then took a step back, looking guarded.

"A bit," I replied. "Jasper….I-"

"Don't mention it," he said. A haunted look crossed his face. "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't…well. No more of this jumping off cliffs, okay?"

I gave a nod and tested the temperature of my hot chocolate. It had cooled off a little, so I took a sip, sighing contentedly as warmth spread through my body.

"You seem…oddly at ease, here with me. I thought…" Jasper trailed off, a dark look stealing over his dark eyes. If I was honest with myself, I suppose it should be natural for me to be a little tense around him, but as per usual, my reactions were never on the same level as those of normal people.

"I don't blame you for what happened, Jasper. I should have been more careful…"

"Don't try and blame yourself, Bella."

I tried to smile. "How about we both stop blaming ourselves? What's done is done. Besides…he's already-" I winced as an invisible hand snagged a handful of my insides and wrenched them all out of place. I thought it would be a relief to be partially whole again, but apparently now there was just more of me to hurt. Jasper felt my pain – I knew by the echo of it I saw in his eyes – and rubbed his hand wearily over his forehead. I felt guilty for adding to the stockpile of grief he had to contend with every day, and wrestled with my own agony, but it only seemed to fight back harder. The relief that his presence had earlier brought on was gone now, and reality set in. I realized that my excitement earlier was only because I associated the return of even part of the family with the return of _him_. The weight of my pain came crashing down once more with such force that I fell to my knees, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. Jasper was at my side in an instant.

"Bella?" he said, kneeling beside me. I couldn't answer; I just sobbed harder into my hands. I felt Jasper's calming presence surround me, but it only slowed the flood of grief; soon, the force of the waves would shatter the barriers he'd set up.

"Bella, please, talk to me," he pleaded. Another stab of guilt pierced my heart as I realized that he could feel the crushing weight of my agony, barely diluted. So I tried to pull myself together, my arms wrapped around my torso – not trying to hold myself in one piece, but to keep the remaining pieces from being jarred by the turmoil raging in my heart. I knew it was a futile effort, and suddenly I could not contain my grief. Words spilled from my lips – the dam had broken.

"It's m-my f-fault," I sobbed, my breath coming in sharp gasps. "Y-you all l-left and it's m-my fault…if I c-could have b-been b-better…if I was w-worth it…if he c-cared-"

I would have gone on, continued to stammer and sob until I'd worked myself up to the point of an attack of some sort, but I was suddenly swept into a stone cold pair of arms, my face pressed against a shoulder that was not granite, but marble – softer somehow, but still just as impenetrable, just as solid as the shoulders I so well remembered.

That thought would have sent me over the edge, would have been the final shove to topple the already tipsy structure of my mind, if not for Jasper. He did not shush me, but rocked me gently back and forth, his arms close around me without being tight. He simply sent waves of peace over me, keeping up a steady crooning of "Bella, Bella," that was just as soothing as his special gift.

I didn't know how long we sat like that – Jasper cradling me in his muscular arms, me clinging to him with every last ounce of strength I had, sobbing the diseased portion of my heart out. It felt like days. The sun had set on the dreary afternoon before I cried myself out. I pressed my face against his shoulder, his cold skin soothing to my hot, swollen eyes. Jasper continued to hold me, though, until he felt the weight of my grief ease. It had not completely lifted, but its mass was much less now. I could bear it, rather than be crushed by it.

I felt him begin to draw away from me, and I wound myself out from the protective circle of his arms, sitting cross-legged on the floor, head in my hands. My breathing was hard and shallow, but it came easier now. The lead that had filled my bones was gone, leaving a strange relief behind it.

Another few minutes passed before Jasper tentatively broke the silence. "Bella?" he asked. His voice sounded odd.

I looked up hesitantly, wondering if I wanted to see his face – to feel the shame I would feel when I saw the disgust I was sure would be there. But his face was devoid of any repulsion – I saw only relief there, mingled with concern and that strange tenderness. There was also a strange triumphant look there. His face still looked strange to me – and then I realized that his guard was down. There was no thirst in his eyes, though he knelt mere feet from me.

"Bella…I…I had no idea," he said, his deep voice made husky by worry.

I had to struggle a moment to remember how to use my voice. When I spoke, it was made nasal, hoarse by my tears. I was so tired my words were coming out slurred. I had cried myself out entirely; it felt like there was nothing left of me to feel anything. The numbness was not unpleasant – anesthetic rather than lead. "S'not your fault," I said, stifling a yawn. "None of you could have known."

He shook his head fervently. "Bella, we knew you better than this. We should have known how it would affect you..." A shiver crawled over his skin, and he shut his eyes tightly, squeezing them together as he spoke. "I won't leave you like that again, alone with no one to help you cope. Unless," he added hastily, "you want me to…"

Slowly, cautiously, I leaned forward, opening my arms a little awkwardly. He caught my meaning and drew me carefully into his arms again. I hugged him tightly, resting my chin on his shoulder, eyes closed. "No, Jasper…I'm so glad you came back…thank you so…" I mumbled, unable to finish my sentence. I was just so tired…"  
"Sleep, Bella. I'll look after you," he promised.  
"Charlie…"

"Don't worry about Charlie. I'll look after this. But please, rest. You need to recover…"

Before he was finished speaking, I'd drifted off to sleep, my cheek resting on his shoulder.


End file.
